Page 1 of Silver Fox
1
Skye
WhenIopenthedoor to my apartment after a shitty day at work, the last thing I expected was to make direct eye contact with some random woman’s asshole.
Or to see my boyfriend lapping at her pussy just below.
Strangely, the only thought that came to my head wasI bought the fucking couch they’re 69ing on.
The pain came after, little knives hitting me just as the sound of the womangawk gawk gawking over Brett’s cock filled my apartment.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I hiss, my voice blazing with barely restrained fury.
Realizing he and the woman were no longer alone, Brett rolls off the couch, vaulting the woman onto the floor in a tumble of limbs. He stares up at me, with all the elegance of a surprised gopher.
My keys jingle as I deposit them onto the kitchen bench, sucking down a few breaths to steady myself. Bryaxis, my little Siamese idiot, winds himself around my ankles, and I bend to collect him in my arms.
Why does it upset me so much more that Axi had to witness this?
And then I see the woman’s face, and my heartshatters.
“Sara?” I croak, swallowing down the rush of emotion clawing up my throat. My shoulders judder in their attempt to keep everything in, to not break down in front of the two people before me.
My sister stares back at me, and she has the gall to look just as shocked and broken as I do. The only family I have left. “Skye,” her lashes flicker as they blink furiously. “It’s not what it looks like.”
I laugh, but it’s so high I think the windows might shatter. “Oh I’m sorry, was he checking you for afucking hemorrhoid?”
And then I realize, without a doubt, that this is the worst day of my life.
The worst day of your life so far, that stupid Simpsons meme reminds me.
“Skye,” Brett begins, holding his discarded boxers in front of his groin. “Fuck, Skye, I can explain—”
Three years.
Three years of my fucking life I wasted on this prick. I supported him through everything. I supported him through his drinking, his anger issues, his insecurity. I worked extra shifts to pay for his community college. I even paid for his goddamn anger management therapy, and for what?
So he could turn me down in bed this morning only to fuck my sister this afternoon.
That’s when I realize what’s around me. It’s early in the afternoon on Valentine’s Day, but there are candles burning.MyIndian jasmine candles. There’s rose petals on the floor too. A balloon bobbing against the ceiling, and even a box of chocolates on the coffee table.
And I was supposed to be at work until five o’clock.
The unshed tears burn the back of my eyes. Was he just going to leave all this Valentine’s shit out for both of us?
“Get out,” I whisper. “Both of you get out.”
Brett shakes his head, his sandy curls waving with the movement. “Skye, you haven’t given me a chance to—”
“I saw what you did with your first chance, Brett,” I hiss, wildly gesturing at my sister. “Why the fuck would I give you a second?!”
Sara weeps behind me, her soft gasps of emotion doing nothing but fueling my anger.
“You’re pathetic,” I tell her coldly, and the little love I had for her is burning to a crisp in my soul. Sara and I have never been close. Hell, she didn’t even stick up for me after Brett bought me a weight loss program this Christmas. Even though the holidays are usually the only time we see each other, I never expected her to do something like this.
Wait.
Did… did they start fucking at Christmas?
